The shape of true courage a pastoral reflection

The Shape of True Courage

In a culture obsessed with noise, we often mistake bravado for courage.
We imagine that the most courageous person in the room is the one shouting the loudest, winning the debate, or leading the charge into battle.
But true pastoral courage looks radically different: rarely loud, and it is never self-serving.
True courage is quiet, steadfast, and often deeply inconvenient: the willingness to stand in the gap for the sake of the truth, even when doing so leaves us vulnerable.

I am reminded of a moment in my own ministry when the pressure was intense and I found myself at a theological crossroads.
I was being asked to affirm a creed that appeared to describe the Church as sinless. I could not do so.
This was not because I denied that the Church is holy.
We confess the Church to be one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.
The Church is holy because Christ is holy, because the Holy Spirit dwells within her, and because she is the Body of Christ.
But her human members—including priests, bishops, and those who exercise authority within her institutions—
remain capable of sin and therefore always stand in need of repentance.

To acknowledge this does not deny the holiness of the Church.
Rather, it refuses to place human conduct beyond confession, correction, and repentance.
At that theological crossroads, I reached out to Fr. Patrick Henry Reardon in Chicago,
a veteran priest deeply versed in the languages of Holy Scripture and formed by the weight of Holy Tradition.
I expected a word of counsel and perhaps some distant encouragement.
His response was immediate and staggering.
He told me that if matters escalated—if I were disciplined for refusing to affirm that creed—
he would fly across the border at his own expense and stand physically beside me. That is the shape of true courage.

Courage in Christ does not merely offer advice from a safe distance, but crosses the border and bears the cost.
Courage in Christ stands beside someone who might otherwise be left to stand alone.
Such courage is rooted not in personal ambition, but in sacrificial love for the Body of Christ—and in the knowledge that we do not face these trials alone.

Standing in the Gap
When the early Church spoke of courage, they did not regard courage as a political tool.
They understood courage as a virtue exercised for the protection of the flock.
St. John Chrysostom repeatedly risked the wrath of emperors and the imperial court because he refused to dilute the truth of the Gospel.
He did not do so from spite or because he delighted in conflict. He did so because a shepherd must warn the flock when danger approaches.
Our Lord tells us that the Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep. The hireling, by contrast, sees the wolf coming and runs away.
Pastoral courage means being willing to say to those in authority: I will obey in everything I faithfully can, but I cannot affirm what I believe to be contrary to Christ.
And, means being willing to absorb anger, misunderstanding, and isolation rather than allowing those entrusted to our care to be left without solid ground.

Yet the most difficult part is not merely speaking the truth….but speaking the truth in Love.
The spiritual mentors who have guided me over the years gave me a mandate that I carry every day:
Speak the truth. Be obedient wherever you can. But do it without a single drop of mean-spiritedness or judgment.
If our courage is driven by anger, this may simply be pride in disguise.
If driven chiefly by the desire to prove ourselves right, we will bear little good fruit.
True courage must be lived entirely in love.
The love of a shepherd who sees the storm approaching and chooses to remain with the sheep rather than running for safety.
The love that refuses both cowardly silence and self-righteous condemnation.

We may not change the course of an entire institution. We may not repair every confusion or failure.
But when one bewildered or wounded soul comes looking for solid ground, our willingness to remain faithful may change everything for that person.
Around here, we will love you even though we know you—and hope that you will do the same.
And sometimes, the most courageous way to love someone is simply to refuse to lie to them. Amen

(C) Fr Ray Dobson 2026